abeer athar

  • abeer athar | 09-Jan-2017
      She wore that scars Like the sky wore stars Everyday her soul was murdered Entire life her expectations kept getting smothered   She was more deep from any vale profound But now, Alas! that fatal girl is now buried somewhere in the ground She believed someone, she were not suppose to. Her soul was dead many years before The day she was not one but they were two.     Somehow she managed herself to say I am fine with a fake smile But what used to happen , her memory got rewind. And then she always cried.   Just because of one, the one her better half She reached up high on the life sorrows graph.   Everyday in her life, the word pain was emphasized and then at last she decided to kiss death tight. and there her tolerance shouted out loud  And that fatal girl got away from this world's crowd........
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  • abeer athar | 06-Feb-2017
    It was a chilly and  a rainy day  I was looking out of my window  My eyes suddenly saw a beautiful thing which was  at the ocean bay...  It was as pretty as a rose and pink as a lotus..  But still it was treated as a negro  People came across it but no one cared  for it..  Some people crushed it with their shoes so someone ignored.  But then also it was pretending to be happy  And the expectation that someone will come to  take it with him was on..  And then there came a high wave and the lonely flower was gone..  
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  • abeer athar | 17-Feb-2017
    The canvas is your battlefield, brush is your weapon Your canvas steels everything from mind wherever it step in This battle in which you are  Is just for the world if eternal mirage  You are an impatient of conflicts, quarreling without any barrage Neither you accept reality nor you refuse it Living somewhere in utopia where you never quit Are you a god of luminosity? Lightening your world of tenebrosity Being a man of anonymous vision You are always asked the same question No matter once or thrice Listen you fake wise where is your Paradise? Is it of Pearl and gold or it's just silty But why you never tell? You,yes you innocent guilty...
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    abeer athar | 01-Jul-2018
      and exactly there he was sitting  on the footpath that tribal child in exile and those turquoise blue eyes were like that they carried the whole universe inside his cold hands and colder spine shows he belonged to a paradise but was left over in this disguise and his blonde curls holding the unanswered question for this world and that amateur soul seemed to be quite unpacified those hands of an angel were bruised  those little fingers blocked his ears as if he was hiding from his fears his face indulged with innocence his eyes silently shouting for help and that poignant heart that was too young to hate but too terrified to love but what made me curious was that lad who is supposed to be afraid of dark laid motionless suspecious with that blood and those marks and all over him blood was spitting out and lying next to him was an army of dead bodies and their bodies sprinkled blood out as if they were dead from an hour or about and then the blast was heard but till
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  • Scars
    abeer athar | 11-Jan-2019
    And these scars read the stories on the abandoning of the sunshine and the arrival of the sullen pale crimson night.... The stories that could have started but ended with the starting note... And these scars sing lullaby in the midnight consumed by the destructive thoughts.... Lullaby that describes the fables of all those warriors who had a smile on their forehead in the form of the tangled frown....and these scars dance on the glance of broken wind chimes like a forlorn letting all it's notes flow deep inside it.. They tell stories that you don't want to hear, sing lullaby that doesn't make you sleep and those wind chimes make you tremble on the edge of the memory rope doing contortions..but maybe they are looking for their origin matching their traces with the finger tips of the characters in all those stories they tell .... Maybe its not the lullaby but Deja Vu of their past life of those unending ended commitments.... And maybe these scars were once the roses that were plucked and left to die..may be the
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  • abeer athar | 11-Jan-2019
    Looking back and walking down the memory lane you will find yourself dancing below a tree with the fall of the autumn leaves....nonchalantly romancing with the barren spring inside yourself with the abstract hope of the fertile rain that will replenish the wild flowers within all those wounds you got from the thorns of the roses.... And one day u will look back and see how you felt from all those mountains you climbed so you bravely and wildly constructed a city of love, happiness and lights in the valley of melancholy silence .. A city too profound to be found...you will look back and praise yourself how did you break the window ceiling when you didn't find the key of that dark locked room..How did you fall back from that broken window ceiling but still with the ray of light and you used that light to grow your Wild Wings....so now you look back and find Miracles are not pixie dust or unicorns but everything ironically indestructible like broken ceilings, autumn leaves, mountain falls, crashed landings and d
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    abeer athar | 12-Mar-2019
    And the heaven is left in the seaAnd the sea drizzles the rain from the heavenAnd darkness surrounds your eyesBut those hands devour the touches Like a lioness just took the untrodden ways to her luscious prey to pacify her hunger Touches so meek and gentle like that of the last few leaves solacing the branches in autumn When it freezes, when it thaws You tell the nuances in the seasons by the grasping skills of smelling ,so sharp, sharper than some predator's clawAnd these fishes fly in the sullen silences of your brain And the sun might ascends , below your feet, below the laneAnd the moon might adorns the freezed hues of purple hayAnd you might rebuke ,the fact of its actual grey And these dews carry the ocean within them, curledAnd below them these grasses might be the mountains of emerald You think, you predict, you implement the signs of auguries of endings and beginnings You live in this predicament, with your spirits, swinging You were not given this world, you constructed it ..You illuminated it, wit
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  • abeer athar | 12-Mar-2019
    And yes I am tenderMy tenderness is not like that of human flesh that you stab and blood comes out slipping over my body, dragging this soul to it's endMy tenderness is like that of an oyster that you stab and pearls will come dancing over the edges of my body...And yes I am tender I am tender like a breath My tenderness is not like any other breath that you take for granted My tenderness is like that of your last few breaths where every inhale and exhale counts..And yes I am tender I am tender like the impalpable flames of fire My tenderness is not like that of those flames that give you warmth and you blow them away, once you fulfill your purpose But like the flames that will give you warmth but if you try to blow me away my sparks will drag you in this dazzling fire until every part of you doesn't get baptized in me....And yes I am tender And don't you confuse my tenderness for my weakness....It is my strength and has always been ...  
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  • abeer athar | 12-Mar-2019
    » Long
    To those loving nights With the fairy lights Magic is all that is inhaledIn this temple of emotions Resides a heart of knight Four a:m in the morning the clock strikes That was when that love arrives Not familiar with the face you always dreamt still beautiful but hard to recognise Messy hair, nerdy face, pointed eyes Dipped in sarcasm, fine like the red wine And yes it arrives and nothingness leaves finally.. And again it's all smiles, all smiles..And yes it arrives from places far away miles and miles.. And now this love reached the middle With the loudest bumping heartbeats but that silent phone Matching habits, colors and tastes like you found your clone And suddenly love made you daring to chat under the blanket..Connection so strong like the opposite poles of magnet And that first contact that takes place under the section called archived That person that doesn't feels like a person anymore but a home.. Like a bee to its beehive..And the darkest secrets start getting leaked And so the love reached its p
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  • I AM
    abeer athar | 17-Mar-2019
    I AM! I am more than what you seeI am what I choose to beI am what words fail to describe I am what a mirror cannot reflectI more than what you neglect I am someone your definitions can't defineI am all those unexplored galaxies What I need is not in you but in me, within meI cannot be like anyone I don't even want to be Because I am, meI am my victories and my losses I am my strengths and my weaknesses I am my pains and my gains And still a lot remainsI am the most defined, yet! Undefined I am the most explored, yet! unexploredI am more than the color of my skinI am more than my likes and dislikes I am what any lens cannot capture so fine Coz it cannot see what lies in this potential of mineI am my brain, I am my heart, I am my soul I am humble like the summer breeze, I am audacious like any black holeI cannot do everything But I can do something I cannot be like anyone But I can be what I was meant to be, the only one You think you know me ?Sometimes I don't even know myself What paths I can take, which cei
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    abeer athar | 04-Apr-2020
    Maybe for once in a millennial  This generation has stood by  With the apocalypse, a pandemic - designated by The blue skies and bluer oceans  Gauging fathoms of crystal clear foams With the extinct of the iron monsters , smoking pipes  And the handicapped motor vehicles  Perished like a wrinkled woman, with two and even four legs  The grasslands and the city life , all submerged into the one horizon  Oh is it the exotic melancholy of this agathokakological predicament  The wilderness of the grasslands have baptised the civilised castles  And the ocean life restoring to its origin  With no strokes of smokes , hitting the plumes of an eagle  The crowd of the city life , hinged within their big castles and small houses  All poking their faces in evening, out of their windows , on the terrace  Scrutinizing the gravity of the ephemeral ordeal, with opinions, sharp and thin  Out of the human breast  Till when ? Questioning
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  • Falls
    abeer athar | 28-Apr-2020
    And today that rose in my drawer had the most beautiful shade of red , the darkest shade it ever had.... "I think it's dying"Cuz Dying roses, blush the hardest ....
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  • abeer athar | 25-Jun-2020
    Strength is not a castle surrounded and guarded by the soldiers, strength is that sand castle near the shore that you keep making as many times as the tides wash it away.
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